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The Charity Trap
Terakhir Diperbarui:
2025-09-03 21:38:00
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The billionaire virgin wife His Public Claim
The event final toast was a blur for Isabella. Crystal glasses clinked, laughter echoed, and chandeliers shimmered with light that seemed almost too bright. She smiled politely when someone bowed in her direction, and nodded when compliments were tossed her way. Yet beneath every courteous gesture, every well-mannered word, she felt the stares. Sharp, piercing eyes trailed her wherever she went. Each whisper felt like a tiny thorn pressed against her skin, reminding her that tonight, she was the center of more than admiration, she was the center of scrutiny.Her pulse raced as she moved through the throng, Damian always just a step behind. His hand occasionally brushed hers, a quiet tether, but she didn’t dare relax. Not here, not now. Somewhere in the corner of the vast ballroom, Helena watched. She was poised and serene, the image of calm sophistication, yet her gaze was a dagger disguised as interest. Isabella’s stomach churned, remembering the last few weeks, the scheming, the rum
The billionaire virgin wife Whispers and Wounds
The kiss was still tingling on Isabella’s lips when the ballroom erupted.The warmth of Damian’s mouth lingered like a secret flame, spreading through her body, igniting every nerve with a mixture of comfort and fear. Her pulse was erratic, hammering not only from the kiss but from the sudden awareness of hundreds of eyes on them. The glittering chandeliers cast a fragile light across the polished floor, but even that beauty could not mask the tension rolling through the room. Every whisper, every glance, seemed to press against her, heavy and judgmental.Some clapped politely, as if unsure whether to treat it as romance or scandal. Their hands moved slowly, hesitant, echoing the confusion that rippled through the crowd. Others whispered furiously, their voices a soft but sharp current, weaving between the music and the laughter. Isabella could almost hear the words forming like daggers, sharp enough to pierce her composure: Look at her. Who does she think she is? How dare she?Isabel
The billionaire virgin wife The Charity Trap
The ballroom glittered with gold and crystal, chandeliers spilling light over gowns worth more than Isabella’s yearly salary back when she was a secretary. Every corner of the room radiated wealth and influence. Waiters glided by with trays of champagne, the bubbles catching the light and floating in the air like tiny stars. A string quartet played softly in the corner, but their music seemed almost a whisper against the tension that now gripped Isabella’s chest.She stood in a backless black dress Damian had chosen for her, the fabric clinging to her curves in all the right places. His hand was warm and steady on the small of her back, anchoring her amidst the storm of stares that followed her everywhere. Yet no matter how much Damian’s presence grounded her, her chest still tightened with nerves. The room was full of eyes , curious, judgmental, unforgiving and every gaze felt like it was peeling her open, inspecting her, and finding her wanting.“They’re staring,” she whispered, he
The billionaire virgin wife Poison in the Air
The message haunted her like a shadow that refused to leave, creeping into the corners of her mind even in the brightest moments. Isabella stared at the spreadsheet on her screen, fingers poised over the keyboard, but she couldn’t focus. The numbers blurred together, meaningless and cold. Each cell felt like a reminder that someone out there was trying to destroy everything she had worked for, everything she had fought to protect.She forced herself to sit straighter, to breathe slowly, but the words from the note she had received that morning kept replaying in her head: She’s lying to you. Proof coming soon.Proof of what, she wondered. Proof of lies she never told? Proof of sins she had never committed? The question gnawed at her relentlessly. Each passing second added weight to her chest, making it harder to draw a steady breath.By mid-morning, the whispers in the office had escalated. Normally, the hum of typing and the low chatter of co-workers created a comfortable background n
The billionaire virgin wife Cracks in the Glass
The silence in Damian’s office was suffocating, thick like the heat before a storm. Isabella sat perched on the edge of the leather chair, her fingers twisting the hem of her blouse so tightly she felt the fabric bite into her skin. Her thoughts spun like a cyclone, each one sharper than the last. Every glance she had felt outside, every whispered judgment, seemed to crawl into the room with her, settling on her shoulders like a physical weight.Damian remained at the window, his back rigid, shoulders squared, as if the entire city beyond the glass were a threat he alone could fend off. His jaw was set, his fists flexing at his sides as though the tension in his body could turn the steel and concrete around them into dust. For a long moment, he said nothing. The only sound was the faint hum of the air conditioning and the distant rush of traffic below, but it felt as if even that had been swallowed by the thick tension that hovered between them.Finally, Isabella’s voice, soft and tre
The billionaire virgin wife Whispers in the Office
The elevator doors slid open, and Isabella felt the weight of every stare.She tightened her grip on the files in her hands. Why are they all looking at me like this?Her steps felt heavier than usual, as if the marble floor beneath her was suddenly unfamiliar and cold. Every click of her heels echoed louder than normal. She could feel her pulse thrumming in her ears. The air seemed charged with tension. Whispers snaked through the cubicles, soft at first, then gaining strength as they reached her. She caught fragments of sentences. “Did you see her…?” “I heard she…” Each word felt like a blade sliding across her chest.When she reached her desk, she froze. Her laptop blinked with a new message in the inbox. An anonymous sender. Her heart skipped a beat.Subject: Everyone knows who you really are.Isabella’s fingers trembled as she clicked it open.Inside were screenshots of emails, emails supposedly written by her, composed in a tone she would never use, drenched with desperation, ma
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